Can't Help Myself
by ABC Girl
Summary: CSI:Miami Think Norah Jones.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Can't Help Myself (1/?)  
  
Author: Andrea (abc3969)  
  
Disclaimer: Me no profit, you no sue.  
  
Rating: PG on a sliding scale, eventually arriving at R, I think. Please read responsibly-don't want to contribute to the delinquency of any minors out there. ;P  
  
Pairing: While I might explore the potential of other duos on occasion, my heart will always return to H/C; and so, to my own muse I must be true.  
  
Archive: Is anybody archiving these? If so, just say so. I'll come visit.  
  
Spoilers: None  
  
Author's Notes: Many thanks to Lady Laeta for allowing me to expound on her reference to Norah Jones' "I've Got to See You Again" from her own earlier piece. Hope I did it justice.  
  
Feedback: If you please. Be gentle.  
  
*****  
  
Can't Help Myself (1/)  
  
The first translucent rays of the Miami sunrise burst through the plantation blinds of her bedroom, shattering the last vestiges of sleep for Calleigh Duquesne.  
  
Unable to prolong her slumber by hiding beneath her sheets, with a muffled groan and a luxuriant cat-like stretch, she languidly came fully awake, only to bolt upright and instantaneously go stock still as the memory of last evening assailed her senses.  
  
She had been working late in the lab, studiously pouring over crime scene photos from her newest assignment-a particularly bloody multiple murder by means of a nondescript .22 caliber rifle.  
  
Even before his body entered the room, she could sense his aura approaching her from behind. Without looking up or even deferring the task at hand, she allowed herself the slightest hint of a smile, though she quickly covered it with her fingers under the guise of striking a contemplative pose.  
  
She continued working even as she felt him lean into her personal space, his warm moist breath tickling her earlobe and stirring wisps of her hair. The resulting telltale shiver traversed her body with lightning speed. Ever the observant investigator, Horatio chuckled at the unbidden reaction she had so adeptly tried to conceal.  
  
"Hard at work, I see," Horatio's voice penetrated her being like velvet- covered steel.  
  
As was always the case whenever he spoke to her, and her alone, Calleigh's thousand-watt smile lit up the room and caused an equally conspicuous flutter in Horatio's pulse.  
  
"My dance card was depressingly empty tonight, so I thought I'd get a jump on my new case," Calleigh sighed, almost regretfully.  
  
"It's late, and I can say with a high degree of certainty that you haven't eaten in hours. Want to grab a bite before we put a lid on this week?" Horatio asked.  
  
After only a few seconds time, Calleigh rose from her chair, grabbed her purse and sweater and made for the door.  
  
"You're on, Handsome," she gratefully accepted.  
  
*****  
  
Horatio expertly maneuvered the Hummer into the parking spot beside the Italian bistro he knew Calleigh favored, but seldom had the opportunity to frequent.  
  
Dinner here was an event of epic proportions, with each course, from appetizer to dessert, ceremoniously presented and laid out before the patrons in grand, sweeping style. Violins hummed unobtrusively in the background and whisper-soft golden candlelight provided the luminous ambiance Horatio had always surreptitiously associated with the Southern Beauty now seated gracefully across from him.  
  
These dinners for two had become an unspoken custom. The easy conversation and the respite they each felt as a result of their times alone together were more than enough justification for broadening their working relationship. What started out as camaraderie  
  
between mentor and protégé had somehow evolved into a "testing of the waters" that they both were aware would, almost inevitably, lead to involvement of a much more personal nature.  
  
Even in this elegant locale, their meal would take on a playful bent. She would feed him forks-full of risotto and he would offer her bites of veal, smothered in rich marinara sauce and mounds of mozzarella cheese. Invariably, the sauce would trickle down her chin, a constant enticement that Horatio would physically fight the urge to kiss away.until last night.  
  
Horatio could no more have prevented his actions than he could have stopped time. The last ephemeral thread of restraint he had so dubiously held between himself and Calleigh snapped sharply and cleanly in twain.  
  
Without preamble, Horatio delicately smoothed his index finger along her cheek and over her chin, scooped up the remnant of sauce, and brought his finger to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers, which, by now, were focused with rapt attention on the digit in question.  
  
Unable to do so much as blink, she watched as Horatio slid his sauce- slickened finger through his lips and ended the spectacle with an over-exaggerated smack, the sound of which elicited a startled jump from Calleigh. Horatio's irreverent chuckle at her response indicated that, undoubtedly, he was in full control of the situation and completely aware of the double entendre the action expressed.  
  
The unspoken communication that had so recently pervaded their professional relationship now appeared to be in full force and effect in this more intimate setting.  
  
Wordlessly, Horatio reached for his wallet, hurriedly tossing bills onto the table, and rose from his seat, extending his other hand toward Calleigh in silent invitation to follow his confident, determined lead.  
  
*****  
  
TBC. 


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Can't Help Myself (2/?)  
  
Author: Andrea (abc3969)  
  
Disclaimer: Me no profit, you no sue.  
  
Rating: PG on a sliding scale, eventually arriving at R, I think. Please read responsibly-don't want to contribute to the delinquency of any minors out there. ;p  
  
Pairing: While I might explore the potential of other duos on occasion, my heart will always return to H/C; and so, to my own muse I must be true.  
  
Archive: Is anybody archiving these? If so, just say so. I'll come visit.  
  
Spoilers: None  
  
Author's Notes: Many thanks to Lady Laeta for allowing me to expound on her reference to Norah Jones' "I've Got to See You Again" from her own earlier piece. Hope I did it justice.  
  
Feedback: If you please. Be gentle.  
  
*****  
  
Such was his haste to get Calleigh inside her apartment that the pain shooting through his leg never registered in Horatio's brain. He had forcefully kicked open her front door, his hands being otherwise occupied anchoring her to as much of his body as she could wrap herself around.  
  
Once they did manage to cross the threshold, Horatio kicked the door again, this time in the opposite direction, ensuring its closure.  
  
A flurry of simultaneous activities followed-their upper bodies, from shoulders to hips, remained tightly fused, as though Hermetically sealed, while lips, arms and, yes, even legs battled valiantly for purchase. Each touch was electric; every kiss, magnetic.  
  
Delirious with passion, Calleigh ruefully dislodged herself from Horatio's ardent grasp to allow her brain time to take in some much-needed air. Chest heaving and heart racing wildly off rhythm, she attempted to speak, intending to be the voice of reason that would diffuse the explosive situation into which they had dived headlong. But, Horatio pulled her to him again, burying his face in her hair and bringing her face in direct contact with the valley between his neck and shoulder. All thought again disappeared as the spicy scent of his cologne wafted over her.  
  
"Calleigh, please tell me you want this as much as I do," Horatio begged breathlessly.  
  
Her tortured reply stunned and disheartened him.  
  
"Oh, God, Horatio. You know I do, but we've been through this discussion before. We can't. Too many consequences.  
  
In his head, Horatio knew she was right. While there was no written regulation against "fraternization" with a colleague, there still existed the tacit expectation that such behavior was frowned upon. If not handled carefully, such dalliances could turn into career suicide-especially for Calleigh. Horatio would never be able to forgive himself if he were to become the ruination of this gifted scientist and crime fighter.  
  
But, his heart had other ideas. It was telling him that he had finally stumbled upon the Great Love of his life and that he should hold tightly to her and never let go.  
  
"Whatever obstacles we might face, we'll face together. We can make this work, Cal. Trust me. Trust us. The rest of the world be damned," he argued.  
  
He punctuated his statement with a multitude of kisses meant to distract and dissuade her.  
  
He continued his seduction of her in earnest then, caressing her in random spots, varying the intensity and duration of every touch, until she thought she might explode with want.  
  
With what little judgment she could muster amidst his sensual onslaught, she rasped,  
  
"God help me. I need you. I need.this."  
  
And with that, they succumbed to the smoldering urgency long held at bay.  
  
*****  
  
Mind reeling, phantom images of her joining with Horatio still lingering in her psyche, Calleigh turned to find his side of the bed devoid of all but a scrap of paper, folded tent-like and placed deliberately in the center of his pillow, designed to have been directly in her line of vision had she awakened facing him.  
  
Trepidation having already taken up residence in her spirit, Calleigh unfolded the paper and read silently.  
  
My beautiful Calleigh, forgive me for not being there when you wake. Somehow I sense that it's better this way-easier for you. Last night was a remarkable miracle I'd been hoping for, almost since the day we met. But, it must forever be just a bittersweet memory, because, My Love, I'm afraid you were right.our getting any more deeply involved would only end in disaster; and I don't want to jeopardize the connection we have now. I'll not press for a repeat of last night, nor will I ever discuss it with anyone, including you. I will, however, try my best to go on with business as usual, as if nothing ever happened, if that is what you ask of me. H Calleigh winced in anguish. She had driven him away. Her own hastily spoken words and selfish, irrational fears had come back to haunt her. She was dangerously close to losing the one man who could possess her, heart, soul and body.  
  
Frantically, she dialed his cell phone and, not surprisingly, she was greeted by his pre-recorded message. Knowing she had only one chance to make things right, her message was succinct-  
  
"Horatio, it's you who needs to forgive me. I was dead wrong. Now that I've tasted how sweet being with you could be, I can't just walk away. Forget all those foolish things I said before. I can't help myself.I've got to see you again."  
  
*****  
  
End Part 2 


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Can't Help Myself (3/3)  
  
Author: Andrea (abc3969)  
  
Rating: PG, on a sliding scale, eventually arriving at R, I think. Please read responsibly-don't want to contribute to the delinquency of any minors out there. ;)  
  
Pairing: While I might explore the potential of other duos on occasion, my heart will always return to H/C; and so, to my own muse I must be true.  
  
Archive: Is anybody archiving these? If so, just say so. I'll come visit.  
  
Spoilers: None  
  
Author's Notes: Many thanks to Lady Laeta for allowing me to expound on her reference to Norah Jones' "I've Got to See You Again" from her own earlier piece. Hope I did it justice.  
  
Feedback: If you please. Be gentle.  
  
*****  
  
Misery. That's what he felt-pure, unadulterated, all-encompassing misery. To his very core. Horatio had only felt this heartsick once before. But, he was able to move on after Raymond died, if only to work at accomplishing the vindication he'd promised Ray at his graveside.  
  
Since the time after his mother's death, Horatio's sole mission in life had been to right wrongs, avenging the victims and bringing down perpetrators. Then she walked into his office and into his heart, and suddenly, his life took on a dual purpose-to love and be loved by Calleigh Duquesne.  
  
He was perpetually dumbfounded by the influence she had on him. Her smile could lighten his often-doleful mood. Her voice could wash over him, bringing a lilting melody to where there was once only a cacophonous din, and her most innocent of touches could soothe away his tensions. And now, he'd discovered that her more passionate side could send him to dizzying heights of ecstasy he'd never reached before, while at the same time enfolding him gently in the coziest blanket of sweet romantic contentment.  
  
Since Day One, she'd nourished his gallant, chivalrous side and he'd brought out her carefree playfulness. The ease to which their yin-yang interplay manifested itself was evident to anyone who had eyes, as were the pair's parallel attempts to downplay their obvious attraction and connection.  
  
Adele had even mentioned to him once, not long ago, that he should be careful or he'd lose his heart to a certain little flaxen-haired Southern spitfire. Little did she know he already had.  
  
He had lain awake spooned up with his own little Calleigh-blanket long after she had surrendered to the Sand Man. He counted her every breath and became mesmerized by the cadence of her heartbeat, which, to his astonishment, kept perfect time with his own. Even as she slept, he gave in to temptation and touched her, feather-light caresses meant not so much to enflame as only to keep him connected with her. He nuzzled the flowing mane of hair that had so enticingly cascaded over her pillow toward him. Hers was a deep and restful sleep, nestled tenderly in his arms. The gears in his mind turned endlessly, preventing him from going so far as to close his eyes. So much to think about.  
  
"This can't happen again," she'd told him as they lay together afterward, bodies cooling and pulses modulating. "There's too much to lose-for both of us. We're playing with fire here and I don't want either of us to get burned."  
  
The words had stung him then as though he'd been slapped. But now, he realized the idea had merit. Calleigh was nothing, if not skilled in the art and science of self-preservation. Her family history had toughened her hide and imbued her with steely resolve to protect herself and nurture those she cared for. So, even after they had acquiesced and made love, she still faced up to the challenge of dealing with the aftermath of their actions.  
  
Intent on convincing her to act now and think later, he had uncharacteristically bombarded her with passion to which she readily capitulated. He had never felt that free and unencumbered with a woman before. He could completely be himself, hiding nothing, holding nothing back. As he had expected she would, she gave as much and as well as she got. In that one night, their first, and if Calleigh be believed, their last intimate encounter, he had found Paradise, and it was in the arms of a petite little filly that had charmed and enchanted him from the start. And then, even before he could fully process all that had happened, she had erected a wall between herself and him, hoping to protect them both. For months, she had warned him of the danger in tasting the forbidden fruit; and once they partook, she set about doing damage control. If denying last night happened was what she needed to do, then, for her sake, he would do the same-no matter how much it hurt.  
  
When his cell phone rang, he checked the display, and finding that it was Calleigh's home number, he hesitated, but could not bring himself to take the call. He could never make a clean break from her if he talked to her now while the memories were still fresh-he could still taste her kisses. He dejectedly clicked the phone off and shoved it deep in his pocket.  
  
After only a few minutes, he could stand it no more.he had to know if she'd left him a message. Encouraged to see the "message waiting" indicator flashing, he entered the requisite code and listened, desperate to hear her bewitching voice once more.  
  
".I've got to see you again," she'd said.  
  
There was hope after all.  
  
Rummaging for his keys with one hand, he hastily dialed his phone with the other, all while making a mad dash for the Hummer.  
  
In lieu of a greeting, Calleigh immediately began frantically pleading her case-  
  
"Oh, thank God, Horatio. I hoped you'd give me a second chance to fix this. I made a horrible mistake pushing you away. I trust your professional judgment every day. Now I need to learn to trust your personal judgment too. Can you ever."  
  
"Whoa, Cal. Hang on," Horatio chuckled in spite of himself. "I've got some things to take care of, but if you'll meet me at my place tonight, we'll start fresh and do it right this time."  
  
*****  
  
Calleigh nervously wrapped her knuckles on his front door. Within seconds she was greeted by his tall muscular frame and those incredible eyes--eyes that were, at this moment, appraising her every nuance with a look of unmasked adoration and just the suggestion of barely-restrained desire.  
  
Not sure if she should be so bold as to make the first amorous move, she tentatively kissed his cheek and reached out to embrace him. He stepped back from her saying,  
  
"Not so fast, Detective. I told you we would start fresh. Beginning right now, I intend to woo you the old-fashioned way, Calleigh, and I'll convince you that we can beat the odds and have it all."  
  
Horatio took her by the hand then and led her to the sofa. Lights dimmed and soft jazz thrumming in the background, the room exuded romance. Before he could deposit himself in the space beside her on the sofa, the soft ding of the oven sounded.  
  
"Have a seat at the dining table. Dinner is served," Horatio stated grandly as he backed out of the room and into the kitchen.  
  
He returned balancing two plates piled high with steaks and shrimp.  
  
"Ummm.smells fantastic," she said appreciatively.  
  
With his trademark grin and a flourish, he put the plate down for her perusal. They ate in companionable silence, both preferring to let the occasion speak for itself, until of course, they fell into their old habit and began to feed each other from their own plates. Realizing the familiarity of the scene, they both laughed giddily and retired again to the sofa.  
  
After a short absence, Horatio returned, hiding something behind his back.  
  
"Whatcha got there?" Calleigh wondered out loud.  
  
"Ta da!" Horatio beamed, producing a tray of strawberries and champagne.  
  
"Oooh, a man after my own heart!" came Calleigh's excited reaction.  
  
"That's right, Calleigh. I am a man after your heart."  
  
Calleigh blushed fleetingly and felt her heart skip a beat.  
  
Horatio poured them both flutes of the champagne and popped a berry into his own mouth before ceremoniously offering Calleigh one as well.  
  
The tension in the air was thick and heady. For Horatio, the temptation to ravish her was nearly unbearable and for Calleigh, the need to touch him was overwhelming.  
  
As if guided by a duo of unseen hands, they rose, in tandem, and melded their bodies together, swaying gently to the music. Only seconds later, their traditional waltz escalated to become the prelude to a much more primal dance.  
  
*****  
  
"Never mind what I said about starting fresh and doing it right." Horatio rasped, as he brought her face to face with him and leaned in until he was peppering from hairline to earlobe to collarbone with kiss after kiss after kiss.  
  
Not one to be outdone, Calleigh held him to her, running her hands through his hair and struggling to return his kisses.  
  
Urgency soon overtook reason as, in unison, they each began tugging at their own clothing, only to decide that the other wasn't working fast enough, so they switched to removing each other's garments instead. After much groping and several failed attempts coupled with peels of laughter, they stood, locked in a tight embrace, breathing raggedly, the rugged plains of his chest pressed to the lush hills and valleys of hers.  
  
Horatio gingerly began to backpedal toward the interior hallway, urging Calleigh to follow. Calleigh moved forward and just before they were out of reach, she palmed their champagne glasses and carried them, nearly dangling from her fingertips, toward his bedroom.  
  
The leisurely stroll to his nighttime sanctuary was marked with tender kisses and soft sighs. Upon reaching the room, Horatio nudged the door open, revealing his invitingly spacious bed, carefully turned down to display exotic black satin sheets Calleigh would never have imagined Horatio might own.  
  
He motioned for her to pull back the coverlet, and as she did, her enthralled gasp delighted him to no end. He had taken great care and expense to scatter loose pink rose petals over the entire surface of the bed.  
  
"My, my, my. Mister 'Tough as Nails' is actually a world-class romantic. But is this your idea of a fresh start, you charmer, you?" she laughed.  
  
"Ah. Well, let's just say I'd hoped the wooing would be a smooth, rapid process," he admitted with a sheepish grin.  
  
"Un-huh. The wooing's not the only thing that's smooth around her tonight. Come 'ere you."  
  
She drew him to her again and their kiss quickly took on a life of it's own. Before either one had time to think, they were falling together onto the rose petals.  
  
The urgency of their first joining having abated, they enjoyed each other slowly, languorously, long into the night. As each burst of passion reached its zenith, they would begin again, preferring not to let go of the mystical atmosphere.  
  
Just as the sun was making its first appearance for another day, Horatio stroked Calleigh's hair, letting his fingertips linger at her chin. He kissed her forehead, nose and chin lightly, hoping to wake her.  
  
Through a contented sigh that morphed into a stretch, Calleigh opened her eyes and smiled.  
  
"Ummm.I'm awake, Handsome, but thanks for the wake-up call," she slurred in her early-morning drawl.  
  
He wrapped his arms around her from behind and dovetailed his fingers with hers, capturing her in his embrace.  
  
"You know, I used to imagine how you'd feel, the taste of your skin. But, I must tell you, nothing, and I do mean nothing compares to the real thing," Horatio whispered discreetly in her ear.  
  
She turned and rolled to face him then, and with the next electrifying connection of their lips, the world outside faded into the ether once again. There were protocols to follow, logistics to work out. All that could wait.  
  
Finis 


End file.
